Page 92 of Bleed with Me

“Why not?” My temper was rising, and the urge to protect Nina, to keep this monster from her, made me almost feral. “Because she’s a woman?”

“Because she’s a Valentino!” His strong voice bounced off the walls, underlining the seriousness of our conversation. Malin rarely raised his voice. “We tortured and murdered Giovanni! How do you know she doesn’t plan to kill you in your sleep as payback?”

“She had the chance and didn’t do it.”

“Yet,” he snarled, standing up. “I found out some truly disturbing things about her. She has similar training to mine.”

That stopped me from arguing with him, but it didn’t scare me; it did the opposite. Knowing she went through the same shit as my unhinged, lunatic brother and walked out alive made me tremendously proud.

“You’re so fucked,” Malin stared at me as if I’d grown another head. “No, not fucked. You’re in love.”

“I’m—”

“Don’t argue,” he cut me off before I could even form a thought, let alone a sentence. “I know that crap when I see it.”

My mouth closed, lips pressing into a thin line because what could I say? That he was wrong? That I cared but didn’t care enough?

I’d been arguing for her safety with my brothers since she started this shitshow. But love? No, no, no. That word didn’t belong in the same sentence as my name. I cared, nothing more.

Glancing at the papers scattered around me, one piece caught my eye. I lifted it and scanned the names, my heart skipping a beat as the realization hit me.

The marriage certificate, signed by her, but not by me.

The dots connected immediately. The reason she hadn’t gone public about our wedding was right in front of me.

Poor girl. I almost felt sorry for her.

Frowning at the medical report that had disappeared from my house, I mused about why Nina had it when I heard Malin cursing in her bedroom.

Knowing my brother wasn’t an easily disturbed person, my interest instantly sparked. I folded the papers along with the musical sheets and hid them under my shirt before entering the bedroom. Malin stood on the threshold of the walk-in closet, his eyes narrowing when he saw me.

“Let’s go,” he said, blocking the entrance. “She might return any moment.”

“What? No. You found something.” I pressed into him, but was met with resistance, which only confirmed my suspicion.

“Look, we already established that your wife is dangerous, possessive, insanely jealous, and manipulative, right?” He raised a brow, refusing to budge.

“Yeah, all the traits I value very much.” I winked at him playfully, standing on my tiptoes to see over his shoulder.

“Dorian,” he rumbled, pressing against me.

“Pretty,” I added, ignoring him. A dreamy expression settled on my face. “You forgot pretty.”

“Yeah, pretty crazy.”

He groaned, punching my shoulder when I finally pushed past him.

At first, I didn’t notice anything unusual. There was nothing he would be hiding from me. Clothes were hung by color. When I opened the drawers, they contained underwear, socks, and pantyhose. I frowned at Malin, who stood at the door with resignation contorting his features.

“Can we go now?” he asked, but I wasn’t ready yet. There had to be something…

Focusing on minor details, I checked every inch of the spacious closet: the shelves, the hangers, even the spot beside the mirror, when I noticed it.

The picture of me with my team from a magazine lay teasingly behind the black nightgown. I bent down and moved the dress away, my eyes almost falling out of my sockets when the board with my face from every angle appeared. Hastily, I grasped the hangers and threw the expensive clothes on the floor, staring at the wall with my mouth agape.

“Wooooow,” I exhaled, glimpsing Malin, who looked unaffected, but I knew better. His stalkerish tendencies had just been challenged.

“Crazy ass.” He pushed himself off the doorframe and stood beside me.